Shadows of Nobody
by Cravatasaurus
Summary: A small RP that I did with someone on Omegle - Draco is haunted by the darkness as he strives to complete his mission to the Dark Lord. He chances upon Hermione along the way, and verbal chaos ensues. One-Shot. Implied companionship between the two prefects. Rated T for mild swearing and my paranoia; no romance. Complete.


_**Hi again, guys! So.. I know you're waiting for 'The Torn Picture' to upload again, but the thing is, I'm a little stuck. I think I need another filler chapter before the next great plot development, but I'm not exactly sure what kind of filler. I'm working on it. It'll take a little while.  
So, I was on Omegle the other day, and had this short RP. I'm only posting it because I'm quite proud of my Draco, being as I had written this at about 1 in the morning with an impatient RP partner and a limited amount of time. If you can't recognize my descriptive writing, I RP here in Draco's POV. Obviously, that leaves Hermione to my RP'er, doesn't it?  
Really short, implied friendship/acquaintaceship between Draco and Hermione; really no romance at all, mostly a bit of angst, I think. Set during the middle or so of their sixth year.**_

_**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I most likely would not be writing unimportant little fanfics.**_

_**I'd really really appreciate it if you guys reviewed, just to give my ego a boost and because I love you, but I understand if you don't. This really isn't my best post.**_

The halls were dead silent this time of night; the torches magically dimmed and Filch on his usual prowl. It was after curfew, of course, and so silent that you could hear a needle drop. No one dared escape the confines of their dormitories. Except one, of course: a rather tall, slim boy with an aristocratic air and sweeping black robes. He stolled haughtily down the halls, blonde head held high, determined not to show his fear and unsureness before the halls haunted with material darkness and a world consisting of nobodys.

"Who's there?" Hermione almost whispered. She was never out past curfew, but she knew that Harry and Ron would get suspicious if they knew what was going on.

Before he could reach his shadowy lair of hidden objects, he halted his pace before the library. He could swear he heard a whisper, so faint that it could have been his overactive imagination, but there nonetheless. With a displeased frown, he drew his wand and cast a quick and minor Lumos; battling the overcasting darkness back, making it flee to the corners of the corridor. "Who's there?" he called to the nothingness. "Show yourself!" he demanded with a frown. "I'm a school prefect, you know!"

"As am I." Hermione called. "Draco, is that you?"

He jumped backwards, startled by the sudden, illuminated body that drew itself up before him. It was a petite little body, too, with a mop of bruntte hair that just barely reached his chin. Blinking, he stared at the figure, before swearing. "Granger," he growled lowly. "One of these days, I swear to Heaven above..."

"What are you doing up at this hour?"

He scowled, officially in a displeased mood. Slowly, he pocketed his wand, and elongated himself to his full height. He knew he ought to get out of here, escape this place, he needed to get to the cabnet- "I could ask you the same thing," he replied, somewhat gruffly.

"Could you, Malfoy?" She smiled, slyly. "Why don't you show me what you're up to?"

He aimed another frown in the bushy Gryffindor's direction, though minimally less stern this time. "Wipe that silly smile from your cheeks, Granger, it's unbecoming," he told her mockingly. "And I'd rather not. Wager I have better business being up than you do, though; but does it matter? We're prefects, and we have patrols."

"Sure. That's the reason I got up." She laughed. "Remember that time I punched you...?"

He shot a befuddled look at her, a furrow between his brows. Merlin, if he kept this up he'd have wrinkles by twenty-eight... "What does that have to do with anything?" he questioned confusedly, beginning to get antsy on his feet. He needed to leave, now, or he'd never get anything at all done tonight.

"I could do it again, you know."

"I know you _can_, but the question reallly is, what the bloody for? I'm not particularly in the mood for games right now, Granger, as you can most likely tell, and so far I'm not appreciating the way this lovely chitchat is going."

"I know what you're up to. You're lucky that I haven't told Harry yet."

His piercing grey eyes, which had since begun wandering, shot back to her own with frightening precision and speed, giving away just how startled he was. "No," he croaked weakly in protest, ignoring her glare. "You wouldn't know."

"Oh, but I do." Hermione seemed almost Slytherin-like. She'd never been like this before, but she kind of loved it. "Invisibility cloak." She smiled.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've been thieving from Potter, now, have you? How very Slytherin. Colour me impressed."

Stranger: "Impressed, hm." She started to frown, "How is it with that girlfriend of yours, anyway. What's her name again?"

"Granger, you've been in her class for six years. Her name is Pansy Parkinson, you know that, so don't try to play dumb. Besides," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "she's really not my girlfriend, you know." He was beginning to feel giddy with the apprehension of it; and could only hope he was turning the subject from his imminent betrayal of Hogwarts.

"What is she then, to you? A toy?"

He hummed in assent. "Something of the sort, I believe. A mere political pawn in this dog-eat-dog, brutish world of violence. Surely you understand." He narrowed his eyes. "And if I hear one word of what I've just told you on the Hogwarts gossip train tomorrow, there'll be consequences to pay."

"That's low, Malfoy, even for you. Plus,I don't gossip, and even if I did, I'm not scared of you at all. Harry's braver than you, Ron's kinder than you, and I'm a better wizard than you are. You don't frighten me at all."

He gave a small sneer. "I'm a Slytherin for a reason, I don't pretend to be brave or nice or some such foolishness. No, that's reserved for you Gryffindor dunderheads. Besides, Granger, don't be too pretentious about your own abilities, please - you may be book smart, sure, but I excel where you are weakest: Defense, Dark Arts, and street smarts." He narrowed his eyes. "Notice, also, that you had to add in the other two just to make up for you. It helps me, too, that not one of you knows a thing about politics and pureblood society. That move you called low? It happens all the time, and is an ingenious key to a master plan. Please do not try to threaten me, or insult my intelligence. Thank you ever so much." And tingly with relief that he had just completely avoided a discussion on the topic of his mission, he swept away back down the hall.

"Excuse me, Malfoy? You're not even as close to as good as me in street smarts, and don't go around saying that I need Harry and Ron. Because I don't. They need me. Also, being loyal is as important to me as being smart. Though you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Malfoy? Pick a side. Voldemort or us. Because if you choose the wrong side, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

He stopped dead in his tracks, still turned away, not even about to face her and give her the satisfaction of his attention. "If you think you know me so bloody well, then you'd know, also, that I haven't got a _goddamn _choice, do I? It's not as simple as you'd like to make it seem." He walked on towards the Slytherin dormitories; back into the darkness that threatened to suffocate him, the nothingness that he so loathed; when he paused. "Oh, and Granger?" he called softly to the girl he knew was still behind him. "You do need them. So treasure it. Because I can't bloody well do it for you." And then the shadows swallowed him.


End file.
